Bird in Hand : A Play in 
One Act : by Laurence 
Housman 




Samuel French: Publisher 

28 -30 West Thirty-eighth Street : New York 

LONDON 

Samuel French, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Stkebt, Strand 

PRICE TWENTY-FIVE CENTS. 



Bird in Hand : A Play in 
One Act : by Laurence 
Housman 



Samuel French: Publisher 

28 -30 West Thirty-eighth Street : New York 

LONDON 

Samuel French, Ltd. 

26 Southampton Street, Strand 






.^' 



CoPTEIcnT, lOlG, 

By LAURENCE HOUSMAJf 



CAUTION. — Amateurs and Professionals are hereby v»arned 
that "BIRD IN HAND," being fully protected under 
the copyriglit laws of the United States, is subject to 
royalty, and any one presenting the play without the 
consent of the author or his authorized agent, will be 
liable to the penalties by law provided. Application for 
the right to produce "BIRD IN HAND" must be 
made to Samtjel French, 28-30 \Vest 38th Street, New 
York City. 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. ^ 

QCJ 181915 



BIRD IN HAND. 



DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 

Professor Braintree A famous scientist 

Miss Tuckey His secretary} 

Dr. Locum His medical attendant 

Elfrida His granddaughter 

Bird-in-Hand A thing to be explained 



Scene: — You are looking into the study of a 
Scientist — a large room lined with books and 
specimen cases. At the back are two upright 
windozus, through which one sees a green 
bozvery garden, suggestive of quiet and seclu- 
sion. In one zvindozv stands a case of stuffed 
birds, in the other a microscope. Near the 
center of the room is a ponderous zvriting-tahlc, 
above zvhich hangs an adjustable light, presided 
over by a large green shade. Adjoining the 
zvriting-table is a smaller one, on zvhich stands 
a typezvriter. All about the room, on tables and 
elsewhere, are books, papers, and portfolios, 
systematically arranged, and suggestive of the 
strict order imposed by a meticidous mind. 
There is one door to right, another to left, the 
latter leading to an inner chamber. On the zvrit- 
ing-table lie papers and a portable speaking- 
tube. A telephone, a zvaste-paper basket, and a 
revolving bookstand are zvithin easy reach of 
the Professor's chair, zvhile behind it is a screen 
partly covering the door leading to the inner 
chamber. On the opposite side, betzveen the 
other door and the zvindozv, stands a large chest. 
It is morning, and through half-lozvered green 
blinds sunlight streams over the replete and 
comfortable interior, touching to brightness the 
polished metal of the microscope, and the 
plumage of the stuffed birds. 

At the smaller table, on a chair less com- 
fortable than the one at the zvriting-desk sits an 



6 BIRD IN HAND. 

old gentleman in an affluent dressing-goivn of 
deep rich tones, dividing his attention hetzveen a 
bozvl of " Benger's Food " and the typewriter, at 
which he clicks with portentous gravity and oc- 
casional pauses in the fingering. He is evi- 
dently inexpert, perhaps through short-sighted- 
ness; hut the typewriter helps him to feel, even 
in his study, that his words are destined for print 
and the laying-dozvn of the scientific lazv for the 
generations to come after. 

The clock on the chimney-piece, a skeleton of 
severe design, zvith the zvor kings of its metal 
bozuels immodestly exposed, strikes eleven. 
This seems to he a signal to a mind methodically 
trained. The Professor consults his watch, 
starts, looks reproachfully at the clock, then 
quits the typezvriter, picks up his bowl of 
Benger, and spooning from it on the way goes 
to the speaking-tube, zvhich having unstopped, 
he breathes into. The exertion sets him cough- 
ing ; but he does this, like most other things, 
patiently and methodically. After listening at 
the tube he speaks down it, and you hear a 
bisected conversation. 

Professor Braintree. Is that you, Miss Tuckey? 
— Yes, I'm ready for you — I'm ready, I say — If 
you will, please. -Yes. (He starts to put on the 
stopper agani; then, as an after-thougJtt) — Oh! 
Miss Tuckey — Are you there ? — Tut ! Tut ! Why 
does the woman hurry so? (He gets up a little 
testily to remove his Benger bowl to a side-table, 
and progressing zvith very short steps places it un- 
securely on a projecting hook zvhence it falls and 
breaks. He accepts the fact philosophically so far 
as infirmity zvill allozv; but there is a gentle queru- 
lousness in his tone as he says — ) There, there ! 
Oh dear! — (And leaz'ing the fragments to lie, re- 
turns to Jiis place. There he stands for a moment, 



BIRD IN HAND. 7 

and looking back reproachfully, removes from his 
eyes the highly magnifying reading-glasses zvhich 
zvere the cause of the misliap. He replaces them by 
another pair which permit a zvider range of vision. 
Through these he is able to contemplate the en- 
trance of Miss Tuckey, a subdued machine of a 
woman, zvlio accepts, zvithout kick of any kind, the 
mould she has been poured into) 
Miss Tuckey. Good-morning, Sir. 

{Like a zvell-fed fish catching at a fly from mere 
habit, the Professor engulfs and returns the 
salutation by an inaudible movement of the 
lips.) 

Professor. Miss Tuckey, there is something 
broken over there, will you please see it removed? 
And will you kindly make a note to write to Messrs 
Spink and Wedge, and say that these new glasses 
don't suit me — I find them very trying to the — 
(About to say " temper," he substitutes) — to the 
eyes. And I must ask you to fetch those proofs 
which came yesterday. I tried to catch you just now, 
but you had gone. 

{In this statement there is a note of rebuke for a 
too precipitate obedience to summons. But by 
the foresight of Miss Tuckey, the proofs are 
there; she deposits them in front of him.) 

Professor. Oh, very well. Thank you. Any 
letters? {Those also she deposits, in two heaps, 
tJie business ones opened, the private and personal 
untouched) When did these come? 

Miss Tuckey. Most of them last night, sir, after 
you had gone to bed. 

{The Professor, tentatively inspecting them, re- 
members that he must change his glasses again. 
The magnifying lens proves informative.) 



a BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. Ah! here is one from Miss Elfrida, 
I see. 

Miss Tuckey. (As she collects and removes the 
fragments of the Benger's food bowl) That only 
came this morning. 

Professor. Wasn't she to be back to-day ? 

Miss Tuckey. Yes. They are expecting her 
quite soon. About twelve, I believe. (The Pro- 
fessor looks at his zvatch, and then remembers 
that he has fault to find zvith the clock, and inci- 
dentally zvith her) 

Professor. That clock is three quarters of a 
mmute slow, Miss Tuckey. (Miss Tuckey at once 
goes to correct it) It should now be at four and a 
quarter minutes past. A clock that loses time is 
so disturbing — especially when it strikes. It puts 
me out of my stride for the rest of the day. (He 
begins looking at his correspondence) And now, 
if ycL' will attend to me! (Miss Tukey is already 
standing meekly to attention) You have your note- 
book? 

Miss Tuqkey. Yes, sir. 

Professor. Take this, then ! (He consults once 
more the letter zvhich he has picked up from his 
opened correspondence) — " Mr. James Pomeroy." 
(I think it is Pomeroy) — He writes on good note- 
paper with a crest ; I suppose I must answer him. 
* Dear Sir " — Oh !- while I think of it, make a note 
that the extra plates for the new edition of " Ob- 
jective Science " have not come through as ad- 
vised ; and they must not go to press till I have 
passed them. What have you got? 

Miss Tuckey. " Mr. James Pomeroy, Dear Sir." 

Professor. No, better make it " Sir." These 
parasitic correspondents ought not to be encouraged. 
" I beg to acknowledge receipt " — no, " I have to 
acknowledge " — have — " the receipt of your letter " 
— date so and so. " With the proposition therein set 
forth, I cannot find myself in agreement. The limits 



BIRD IN HAND. 9 

of sensory receptivity are patent to every scientist." 
Miss Tuckey. The limits of what? — I beg par- 
don. 

Professor. " Sen-sory re-ceptivity " — in other 
w^ords, the receptivity of the senses. " That fact, 
however, does not provide any legitimate ground for 
a belief in those magical or supernatural occurrences 
through which, as I apprehend, you seek to counter- 
balance the deductions of science. I find no reason 
to doubt that however much still lies beyond the ap- 
prehension of our senses, it must all nevertheless 
be within the range of a scientific explanation. 
I am, Sir, yours faithfully " — {He takes up another 
letter) Oh, that is from Messrs. Moody & Prose. 
Just say " received," and have made a note. This 
is to take the chair at the International Science 
Conference for the discussion on the " Homology of 
the Invertebrates." Say I accept the honor and am 
their obedient servant — That is, no. That is 
" no" — {He hands letters) That impertinence you 
need not answer — And now, take this — " Mrs. Daph- 
nephoria Brown — the Seminary, Brunswickville, 
Connecticut " — " My Dear Madam, Your very flat- 
tering proposal to arrange a compendium from my 
various studies in Objective Science, entitled * Suf- 
ficient unto the Day,' and intended to provide a basis 
for the accurate biological training of the very 
young, gives gratifying evidence of the interest you 
take in and the value which you attach to my literary 
labors. I am inclined, however, to think that the 
terminological exactitude so necessary to scientific 
statement could not be accommodated to the range 
of the child-mind without a certain damage to the 
content " — Of course, that means to the scientific 
content, not to the child's mind. (No, no, don't 
take that! That was only commentary) — " Should 
I, on later consideration, see any possible adjust- 
ment of my works to your proposed scheme I shall 
not fail to communicate with you further in the 



lo BIRD IN HAND. 

matter. I am, dear Madam, yours very truly "— 
That you can destroy, and the address you need not 
keep. (He hands over the letter to Miss Tuckey) 
And I tliink that is all — Oh, will you fetch me the 
file of Professor Lake Jones' articles on the " Rudi- 
ments of Corpuscular Gravity" which appeared in 
last year's Science Journal." You will lind it in 
the Press Bureau, I think, under " R." (Miss 
Tuckey goes to look for the file in the small inner 
chamber, from ivhich, as she opens the door, comes a 
brighter light of day than enters the study through 
the tempering greeii blinds) And now for Elfrida. 
(He opens letter) Well, well, well! What is she 
sending me this botanical specimen for, I wonder? 
It looks like a leaf of the Hornbeam — Carpinus 
Betulus, if I am not mistaken. (He examines the 
leaf, then lays it doivn and returns to the letter) 
Dear me 1 The child has such a hand-writing that 
I can't read a word of it. Miss Tuckey, your eyes 
are better than mine, will you kindly read me this 
letter ? 

(Miss Tuckey has returned with the required file. 
She puis it doivn and takes up the letter.) 

Miss Tuckey. " Dearest Grandpapa " 

Professor. Yes, yes, I read that. 

Miss Tuckey. " I am coming back to-morrow — 
I have had a lovely time. So did Benjy: we went 
everywhere together, but he always would go into 
the water, and I had to stay out " 

Professor. Benjy is the dog, I believe. 

Miss Tuckey. " That was wrong of him, wasn't 
it? — To-day in the wood I saw a tree full of 
fairies, it was wonderful. But when I came they 
all climbed up and hid behind the leaves, so I wasn't 
able to catch one. But I send you a leaf ofif the 
tree, so as to show it was a real one, and not what 
you call my ' magination ' " 



BIRD IN HAND. ii 

Professor. Oh, so that's what the botanical 
specimen is for, is it ? — Yes ? 

Miss Tuckey. " Please keep it till I come, then 
I will tell you all about it " 

Professor. Miss Tuckey, I wish you would not 
leave that door open ! There's a dreadful draught 
at my back. 

Miss Tuckey. It isn't open, sir. 

Professor. Well, there's a draught somewhere — 
Quite a wind ! It seemed to come all of a sudden ; 
and there! it has blown away Miss Elfrida's leaf 
that was here a moment ago. (He friggles and 
moves his head uneasily, as though the draught still 
afflicted him) You had better re-arrange that 
screen. Well, is that all the letter? 

Miss Tuckey. Yes, sir, except she sends her 
love. (She goes and re-arranges the screen) 

Professor. Very well. That is all, thank you, 
for the present. Just draw down those blinds be- 
fore you go. The light is too strong, it tries my 
eyes. (Miss Tuckey lozvers the blinds) I should 
be glad to have that article for Hibberd's copied be- 
fore post-time. 

Miss Tuckey. Certainly, sir. 

Professor. And when Miss Elfrida comes will 
you send her up to me? 

]\Iiss Tuckey. Yes, sir. 

{She collects her papers and goes out, and the 
Professor settles to his zvriting. Putting aside 
Elfrida's letter, conspicuous by reason of its 
being zvritten on pink paper, reminds him of the 
vanished leaf. He gives a momentary look 
for it to right and left: but the thing is unim- 
portant, and dismissing it, he gets to work. 
This so entirely absorbs him that he is unazvare 
of being looked at. Above the top of the zvrit- 
ing-table a pair of strange eyes gradually em- 
erge. Dark and insect-like, they stare at him 



12 BIRD IN HAND. 

out of a small green face, sharp, queer, and sug- 
gestive of a brain with a vivacious but detached 
standpoint. Out of the head sprout long Jiorns 
or antennae; the creature ts a curious mixture 
of beetle, bird, and grasshopper. Its color 
from head to foot is bright green. Fixing on 
the Professor a stare of uninformed and quite 
unintelligent interrogation, it moves slozvly 
round the writing-table till it stands opposite 
to him. Presently it smacks its lips, and begins 
a soft jabber to itself, not much louder than 
the whip of leaves on a zuindow-pane.) 

Bird-in-Hand. Quit-a-quit! Quit-a-quit! Quit- 
a-quit ! 

(The Professor, thinking he hears something, looks 
up through his reading-glasses, and cannot be- 
lieve his eyes. At once his grievance is against 
the optician.) 

Professor. Really ! — these glasses ! — How they 
do strain one's eyes! (He takes them off, and puts 
on his distance-glasses; but the apparition remains, 
vibrating up and dozvn on its toes as though rather 
pleased with itself. The Professor considers it 
from a variety of attitudes, and with a growing 
apprehension that he really is seeing something) 
Dear, me, now ! ■ This is most extraordinary ! — It 
almost makes me believe my eyes. (He en- 
deavors to reconstruct his thoughts on scientific 
lines) — Now, let me think, let me think ! How 
many cups of green-tea did I have this morning? 

Bird-in-Hand. Sik-sik-sik-sik-sik-sik-sik ! 

Professor. Six, I believe it was ! — Did that thing 
speak? (A Pause) 

Bird-in-Hand. (With a slow, meditative, rather 
plaintive intonation) Chwee-e-weet ! 

Professor. But, but — this is an hallucination ! 



BIRD IN HAND. 13 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee ! 

Professor. An hallucination, I say ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee ! 

Professor. (Trying to reject the evidence of 
his senses) No, no, no! — I must be ill! — Over- 
work ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chip-chip-chip-chip-chewee-e-e ! 

Professor. What — Am I going out of my senses ? 
(He makes a dive for the telephone) Station 1228, 
please — yes ! i double 2, 8 ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Two-eight! Two-eight! — Eight! 
eight ! eight ! eight ! eight ! eight ! 

(The note is still low and plaintive, but the Pro- 
fessor gets more and more frightened.) 

Professor. I can't bear this; I can't bear it!—? 

My nerves won't stand it ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chip it ! — Chip it ! 

(The 'phone calls him.) 

Professor. Is Doctor Locum — ? Oh, Doctor, is 
that you? — Will you, please, come and see me at 
once? — Braintree — Professor Braintree. Yes — 
most urgent — I'm afraid I've, I've — broken down. 

Bird-in-Hand. What? What? What? What? 
What? 

Professor. No, no, not a blood-vessel ! — But do 
come immediately ! — Yes. Don't lose a moment, I 
beg — Good-bye 

Bird-in-Hand. Sh-sh-sh-wee ! Sh-sh-sh-wee ! 
—Oh, why?— Oh, why?— Oh, why ?— Spit-it-out ! 
Spit-it-out ! 

(The Professor with a gorgonised stare has been 
trying to rule the thing out; now by a firm ef- 
fort of will he seeks to distniss it from hi^ 
mind.) 



14 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. No, no, it's not there! I don't see 
it, I don't see it, I don't see it. I 

(But he does see it; that's the trouble. It advances 
its head slotvly toivards him, tJien draivs it back 
again, and with a more chcerfid note than be- 
fore, as if to encourage him, remarks:) 

Bird-in-Hand. Che-wit! 

{At this the Professor shuts his eyes, and con- 
tinues to exercise his wdl-pozver, under condi- 
tions wJiich make the assertion more tenable.) 

Professor. I don't see it and I won't see it! — 
I won't see it! — I — I dismiss it entirely from my 
mind. It isn't there! (While he is ifius tackling 
the problem the creature shifts its position, and now 
standing at his back, vieivs him from a fresh stand- 
point with the same blank stare of a curiosity that 
comprehends nothing. The Professor opens his 
eyes again. Will-p07ver has apparently prevailed. 
He no longer sees the object of his aversion) That's 
better! (He begins cautiously to turn his head 
first to right then to left. It gives him a great start 
to find the green Jiorned creature close behind him. 
This is too much like having a caterpillar dozvn his 
hack for equanimity. Irrespressibly he jumps up) 

Professor. Get out ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Che-wee — che-wee — chewee — 
chewee — chewee ! (The creature flies off crying like 
a startled black-bird. The Professor, seeing that it 
responds to voice and gesture, tries driving it) 

Professor. Shoo! Shoo, get out with you! 
Scat! But no, no, I mustn't do that! If I do that, 
I shall end by making myself think it exists. No, 
I must endeavor to dismiss it from my mind. 
There I There ! Now it's gone. 



BIRD IN HAND. 15 

(Leaning his head on his hand, he sits zvith munch- 
ing mouth, wriggling nervously in his seat. 
Meantime the creature, sliding alongside tJie 
table, and touching things tentatively zvith its 
clazv-like fingers, lights on the typezvriter. As 
the click of the instrtwnent catches its fancy, 
it makes a scrambling attack upon the keys 
zvith acompanying noises curiously resembling 
the zvell-knozvn sazv: " Peter Piper picked a 
peck of pickled pepper corns." That, hozvever, 
is merely coincidence — the sounds it emits being 
merely a running commentary on the letter 
P-) 

Bird-in-Hand. Peet-a-pipe ! — Pick-a-peck ! — 
Pick-a-peppa-kum ! — E-peet-a-pipe — a pick-a-pick — 
a-pick-a-pepp a-kiim. Wees-a-peck, a pick-a-peppa- 
kum. Peet-a-pipe-a-pick ! 

{At this outburst of oratory the Professor, after 
sitting spellbound for a moment, makes a vicious 
flick zvith his handkerchief, and the green imp 
ducks and disappears.) 

Professor. Well — I — hope I'm better! (This 
hope is almost at once put to rout. The Professor 
apprehensively snatches back his feet from the knee- 
hole of the zvriting-table, and his brain is once more 
seized by panic) Oh! I felt it! I felt it — I'm 
out of all my senses now! — If this keeps on much 
longer, I shall go stark staring mad ! 

(But nozv the creature's interest is diverted else- 
zvhere. Rising and pirouetting across the room, 
it comes suddenly upon the case of stuffed birds, 
and stands transfi.ved zvith astonishment. These 
frozen bits of bird-life seem to baffle its zvits. 
It taps tJie glass-case, and after a close scrutiny 



i6 BIRD IN HAND. 

tries ivith sounds and a flapping motion of the 
hands to coax the occupants back to life.) 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee ! Chich-a-wee! — 
Tweet, tweet ! Wee-wee-wee ! Chick-a-wake ! — 
Oh, why? — Tickle 'em up! Too-to-weet ! Too-to- 
weet ! — Eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat ! Quick, quick ! 
Josophat ! Josophat ! Whit-a-woo ? — Drink-and- 
eat ! Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r ! 

Professor. Oh ! But this is horrible ! — It's true ! 
It really exists! {He sits petrified) 

Bird-in-Hand. Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r! 

Professor. And / don't ! — I don't! — I don't! 

Bird-in-Hand. Cheer-up! Cheer-up! Cheer- 
up! — Oh, why? (Petrifaction gives ivay to fury) 

Professor. Stop it ! Stop it, I say ! {He picks 
•up a pamphlet and throws it ivith random aim. This 
hit-or-miss has little effect. A deep sadness at its 
failure to rouse the birds has taken the tree-imp. 
Crying in a lozv plaintive note it turns towards him) 

Bird-in-Hand. Wee-wee! wee-wee-wee! 

{It advances slozuly towards him. The Professor 
makes a grab at the speaking-tube, and blows, 
then speaks down it.) 

Professor. Miss Tuckey, are you there! Miss 
Tuckey ! 

Bird-in-Hand. {Halting for a moment) Tuckey, 
tuckey, tuckey — Tuck ! — tuck ! — tuck ! 

Professor. Would you come up, please, for one 
moment ! 

Bird-in-Hand. (Secretively) Sh — sh — wee! 
(As if on a tour of exploration, it disappears behind 
the screen at his back) 

Professor. Now I shall know whether I am mad 
or not. Yes, I shall know! — (Enter Miss Tuckey. 
The Professor faces her in some confusion. The 
relief of her presence lets him down and it is hard 



BIRD IN HAND. 17 

for him to collect his ivits) I — I — I want you to see 
that those proofs go, Miss Tuckey — by the first post. 

Miss Tuckey. Yes, sir — {She looks a little sur- 
prised and nonplussed) Did you want anything 
else, sir? 

Professor. Oh, well, and if you would kindly 
rearrange that screen ? I still feel rather a draught. 

(Miss Tuckey goes and readjusts the screen. It 
is evident that, as she goes behind it, no appari- 
tion confronts her; she emerges as machine-like 
as ever, calm and collected.) 

Miss Tuckey. Will that be as you wish? 

Professor. Thank you. 

Miss Tuckey. Is that all, sir? 

Professor. Yes, that is all. {He looks cautiously 
round, and as she goes out gets up and looks behind 
the screen himself. Nothing is there) But this is 
horrible ! I saw it ! Oh 1 if I didn't see it, I'm going 
mad! 

{Almost immediately in another part of the room 
the apparition re-appears.) 

Bird-in-Hand. Peweet, peweet! Chus-luk-a- 
mee ! Chus-luk-a-mee ! 

{With this, the spring cry of the peewit, sounding 
so much like "Just look ai me!" it displays a 
hitherto unsuspected power of levitation in a 
series of surprising bounds into air, as though 
its feet went up from spring-boards.) 

Professor. Ah! Now then! Now! 

{From a corner rack behind him the Professor 
snatches a large green butter-fly net, and for a 
fezv moments you have the degrading spectacle 



i8 BIRD IN HAND. 

of an eminent scientist, pursuing on the material 
plane something zvhich he does not really believe 
to exist. But the pursuit soon ends. The imp 
is too agile, the pace is too killing, and the 
Professor in his stumbling course has knocked 
over a number of things that he did not iiitend 
to. Exhausted, he sits dotvn again to breathe. 
Once more the creature has disappeared. Thus 
momentarily relieved, he perceives the disarray 
info which the chamber has been throzvn, and 
proceeds to pick things up. Apparently from 
its place of concealment the creature is watch- 
ing him, for almost immediately he hears its 
voice. ) 
Bird-in-Hand. Pick-it-up ! Pick-it-up ! 

(To be thus ordered about by an apparition is trying 
to the Professor's temper. He slaps down his 
gleanings on the table, and makes a second grab 
for the butterfly net.) 

Professor. No — no, I mustn't do that : it's no 
good. I must think ! 

Bird-in-PIand. Think — think — think — think — 
think ! 

Professor. I will just go on with my writing 

Bird-in-Hand. Do it ! — do it ! — do it ! 

Professor. — as if nothing had happened at all — 
Perhaps it hasn't"! (But again the creature has re- 
appeared) Oh, do get away ! 

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee! Che-wee! (Real- 
ising it is not zvanted, it roams off and begins once 
more to inspect the room. Before long it runs its 
finger down a pile of papers high up on a shelf, and 
the papers tip over and fly out across the floor. 
Fleeing before them) Che-wee — Che- wee — Che- 
wee, Che-wee — Che-wee ! 



BIRD IN HAND. 19 

(The Professor is now so angry that he has left off 
being frightened. He jumps up to rescue his 
papers. ) 

Professor. Hallucination, you are a perfect 
nuisance ! 

Bird-in-Hand. (Coaxingly) Che-wee-wee? 

(The Professor collects the strewn papers from the 
floor; and as he goes about gathering them up, 
the creature follows him, zvith round inquisitive 
eyes at all he does. He opens chest and begins 
to deposit the papers inside. Curious to spy into 
this new interior, the creature stretches out a 
hand.) 

Professor. (Very irritably) Why can't you let 
things alone? 

Bird-in-Hand. (Derisively) Chich-e-wee! 
(With a sportive dive it plunges into the chest, 
tossing up the loosely arranged papers into fresh 
confusion. On this last bit of exasperating frivolity 
the Professor slams down the lid, and locks it; and 
the tree imp is boxed up zvithin. It takes him a 
moment or tzvo to realise his triumph. It is a little 
difficult, indeed, to knozu on zvhat lines to take it. 
Has the locking of the chest, zvith the hallucination 
inside, disposed of the hallucination? His doubt 
is solved almost at once, for from the inside of 
the chest the hallucination o)tce more becomes 
audible) What? What? What?— I say! Let it 
out ! Let it out ! Quick ! Quick ! — Oh, why ?—(A 
pause. The Professor stands considering ; he has 
the key. He retreats tozvard the table, and lays it 
dozmi. The chest continues to give forth sound. A 
tapping begins upon the lid, and in a gradual 
diminuendo the chattering goes on. The Professor 
dips a pen, and tries to resume his writing, but his 
interest is still held) I say ! I say ! I say ! Pick it 



20 BIRD IN HAND. 

out! Pick it cut! What? What?— What? What? 
—What? What? What? What? What? What? 
— Tweet-weet ! wee, wee, wee, wee ! Oh, why ? — 
What?— Oh, why?— What?— Oh, why? 

(The sound is now so faint that the Professor can 
scarcely hear. He again dips his pen and 
resolutely starts zvritiug. There comes another 
" Oh, tvhy " which he does not hear. His nerves 
are recovering somezvhat, encouraged by the 
ensuing silence; but he gives a sharp start zvhen 
the zvhisfle of the speaking-tube blozvs. He un- 
stops it and listens.) 

Professor. Oh, yes. Will you ask him to wait 
one moment? (He gets up and goes cautiously to- 
ward the chest, stoops and listens at it for q, moment, 
with apprehension that turns to a sort of doubtful 
relief) Nohing, nothing there, at all ! {Neverthe- 
less, he gives a last look of suspicion, and pauses one 
last second before again applying his month to the 
speaking-tube) Ask Dr. Locum to come up. 
{Catching sight of the butterfly-net, he goes to put 
it away, and has just done so zvhen the Doctor 
enters) 

Doctor. How are you, Professor? Nothing very 
serious, I hope 

{The Professor holds himself in. He is nozv feel- 
ing a little aggrieved at the shock he has ex- 
perienced.) 

Professor. Doctor, I — I want you to examine 
me, before I — before I say anything. 

Doctor. Examine you ? — in what way ? 

Professor. Just find out my symptoms — my state 
of health, generally. 

Doctor. Well, Professor, let's see the tongue! 
Then I'll take your temperature — Sleep well? 



BIRD IN HAND. 21 

Professor. Much, as usual. 

Doctor. Appetite good ? 

Professor. Yes — fairly. (At this moment in 
goes the thennotneter, and the Professor becomes 
temporarily speechless. The Doctor feels his pulse, 
looking at his ivatch meanzvhile) 

Doctor. Hours ? — Have you been keeping late 
hours ? 

Professor. M-m! (Assisted by gestures this 
sound stands for " no ") 

Doctor. Everything quite regular — as usual? 

Professor. M-m! . (This time it means "yes") 

Doctor. Yes : the pulse is a little bit agitated. 
Have you been putting yourself to any unusual ex- 
ertion lately? 

Professor. M-m! (This melancholy moan of 
affirmation is emphasised by a motion of tJie head. 
And the Professor's eyes turn tozvard the chest) 

Doctor. Ah ! but you shouldn't do that ! you must 
take more care of yourself. Your heart isn't what 
it was. Mustn't expect it at your age. Now then, 
let's see! (Withdraws and examines thermometer) 

Professor. Circumstances, over which I had no 
control, caused me to exert myself. 

Doctor. Well, you know, there's not much wrong. 
Temperature about normal. 

Professor. Doctor, a most extraordinary thing 
has just happened. I must tell you about it. 

Doctor. H'm — h'm? (He sits doivn) 

Professor. I was sitting here at my work — I was 
writing — there! as you see. Does that in anyway 
look — agitated? (Shozvs him a paper) 

Doctor. I should not say so. 

Professor. Does it make sense? 

Doctor. " When all the objective data presented 
to sense-receptivity are compared, and the dif- 
ferentiations of their varying incentives and re- 
actions properly allowed for — " Well, I should say 
so — not that I altogether understand it. 



22 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. No, but it is constructive ? — Would 
you say that the man who wrote that was out of his 
senses ? 

Doctor. Alost certainly not ! 

Professor. I only wish to show that I was in the 
full possession of my faculties, my ordinary work-a- 
day mind. 

Doctor. Very well, Professor, I accept that. 

Professor. Well — Suddenly I glanced up, and 
there I saw a horrid little green thing looking at me 
— with eyes ! 

Doctor. Yes : it would have eyes, if it was look- 
ing at you. 

Professor. Very curious eyes, Doctor, — like a 
young bird's ; and it had horns also — And — well, 
there it was, you know ! — At first I didn't believe 
it, I thought it was green tea — I tried to dismiss 
it from my mind altogether. But — it wouldn't let 
me. Before I knew where I was, it — it spoke to me. 

Doctor. Did you speak to it? 

Professor. Yes, I did. 

Doctor. Fatal thing to do, Professor. Of course 
in that way you encouraged the — the phantasy. 

Professor. Ah, but it was not / who spoke first — 
At least I was only talking to myself. And suddenly 
it said — " Six, six, six, six, six," — just like that! 

Doctor. Was that in answer to anything? 

Professor. Well, in a sort of way, yes — I had 
just said to myself : " Now, how many cups of 
green tea did I have this morning ? " — And then it 
made the remark. 

Doctor. And six zvas the number. 

Professor. There, or thereabouts. 

Doctor. Very well. Professor. Now, better not 
think any more about it. I'll make you up a prescrip- 
tion. And you had better quite knock off that green 
tea for a little while. 

Professor. But that's not all. Doctor. 

Doctor. Do you think you need tell me any more ? 



BIRD IN HAND. 23 

Professor. Yes. You don't how real it seemed. 

Doctor. It would give you that impression. 

Professor. But even now. 

Doctor. Yes, yes. But there will be a reaction. 
That will pass. 

Professor. But— Doctor— I m— not satished. 

Doctor. You will be. Don't dwell on it ! You'll 
get all right again. Don't work too much at night, 
and don't sit up late. 

Professor. I go to bed regularly every night at 
a quarter to ten. 

Doctor. Good ! Then just for the present make 
it half-past nine. . 

Professor. Doctor, I want to explain— At 
first, of course, I took the view that you take. I did 
not for a moment believe that such a thing could 
exist. I regarded it as an hallucination. But later 
on, it— well I came to think otherwise— It did such 
a lot of things— that I could not myself have con- 
ceived—and once it actually touched me. That was 
a great shock. 

Doctor. Yes, it would be, naturally. But you 
were indulging the 

Professor. No, no, Doctor, I was not. I— 
Well, now what I want to tell you is this. When I 
began to think that there was something real about 
it after all, I— then, I'm sorry to say, I let myself go, 
and I pursued it— all over the room. 

Doctor. Any good ? 

Professor. None whatever. I knocked over a 
few things, that's all. I was picking them up just 
before you came in. 

Doctor. Well, and then ? 

(The Professor's eye travels toward the chest; but 
he is unable to confess himself quite honestly.) 

Professor. Then— it disappeared. ^ 
Doctor. And you haven't seen it since ? 



24 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. No. 

DocTok. Nor heard it? 

Professor. I have not — . That is, no. 

Doctor. Well, then, that's all right. 

Professor. I hope so. Doctor, I haven't quite 
explained to you the shock it was to me. It was 
that terrible moment when I thought that, afer all, 
there might be something in it ! At that moment I 
saw all my life's work disappear. All my science, 
all my philosophy — gone ! Everything I had written 
— worth nothing ! 

Doctor. Well, well, but don't dwell on it! 

Professor. It was terrible! 

Doctor. But it wasn't true. 

Professor. No — But for a moment it seemed 
true. That is really what — what gave me such a 
shock. 

Doctor. Well, it's over. Now, don't think any 
more of it. That is the best cure. You say you 
haven't been sleepless? 

Professor. No — but I shall be. 

Doctor. Oh, no. We'll se to that ! I'll send you 
the right thing. To-night you'll sleep like a top. 
(He gels up to go) 

Professor. Thank you. Good-bye. (The Doctor 
think that I'm really going ofif my head, do you? 

Doctor. No, no! Nerves a little bit upset, that's 
all ! — a little too much work, a little too much sitting 
still, a little too much indoors — and a little too much 
green tea. Many a little makes a mickle. 

Professor. I don't want it to occur again. Doctor. 

Doctor. It shan't, sir, it shan't! Now, good- 
bye ; I must be off ! 

Professor. Thank you. Go^d-bye. ( The Doctor 
goes out. The Professor stands looking at the 
chest) And to think hov/ I saw it go in there ! (He 
goes and stands by the chest ; listens for a long time, 
then taps) Is anyone — ? — Is anything there? — 
Ah! That's all right, then! — I hope. (He goes 



BIRD IN HAND. 25 

back to his seat. Then his eye falls on the key; he 
takes hold of it, and is about to get up again. With 
an effort he sits back, letting the key go) No, I will 
not ! — But suppose — suppose it were there after 
all ! No, no, no — No. It wouldn't do at all. Every- 
oody v;ould think that I was mad — Well, well, I 
must — I must try to get on with my work. (He 
composes himself to write. Presently there enters 
an attractive little figure in a knitted cap, jersey, and 
skirt of bright green. This is Elfrida. She ad- 
vances very quietly, zvith a roguish smile, stops at the 
table and stands looking at him. Suddenly, with the 
tail of his eye, the Professor catches sight of her. 
It gives him a dreadful start; but a look at her over 
the top of his glasses reassures him) Effie ! Why, 
Effie, my dear, what a start you gave me ! 

Elfrida. {Getting nearer the truth than she 
knozus) You thought I was a fairy. 

Professor. No, I didn't think you were a fairy. 
I thought you were an hallucination ! 

Elfrida. What's that ? 

Professor. Something that's not real, my dear. 

(Elfrida Jias sidled round to the back of his chair; 
and now, from behind, she gives him an affec- 
tionate hug.) 

Elfrida. I'm real. 

Professor. Thank God for that! — Well? 

Elfrida. Oh, Grandpapa, I've had such a lovely 
time ! You got my letter ? 

Professor. Yes, my dear — Oh, by the way, 
you've come just too late. 

Elfrida. What for? 

Professor. The Doctor, my dear. I wanted him 
to see you. 

Elfrida. Why ? 

Professor. To tell me how you are. 

Elfrida. But I'm quite well — ever so well ! 



26 BIRD IN HAND. 

Professor. I hope so, my dear, but one never 
knows. 

Elfrida. / do! And Grandpapa, you got my 
present, didn't you? 

Professor. Your present? 

Elfrida. In my letter — What came off the tree 
that had fairies in it. 

Professor. Oh, yes, yes. It's somewhere about 
here. {He starts to search, then remembers) Oh, 
no ! It blew away : — it's on the floor somewhere. 

Elfrida. And you do believe what I told you — 
don't you, Grandpapa ? 

Professor. Well — I've thought about it. 

Elfrida. It was true — I saw them ! You must 
believe that ! 

Professor. Well, I don't know — One isn't sure. 
So you've had a good time, eh ? 

Elfrida. Grandpapa — If you could only make 
people kno2i' there were fairies, wouldn't it be 
wonderful ? 

Professor. I suppose it would be, my dear. 

Elfrida. But no one believes in them now, do 
they ? 

Professor. No, not usually. 

Elfrida. Grandpapa, if you were ever able to 
find one — wouldn't it be grand? 

Professor. Would it, my dear? 

Elfrida. Did you ever try? 

Professor. Once I did, for a short time. But if 
I were to, no one would believe me. 

Elfrida. Oh, but if you found it and showed 
it to them, they'd have to. 

Professor. Yes, I suppose they would, my dear. 

Elfrida. And then you'd be ever such a great 
person — much greater than you are now ! 

Professor. But my dear, you — you don't under- 
stand. If people were told that Professor Braintree 
believed in f ai-ies — why, they would laugh ! 



BIRD IN HAND. 27 

Elfrida. You'd laugh, too— but you could laugh 
longer than they would. 

Professor. Eh? . , • 

Elfrida. Why, it would be like a miracle! 
People would begin to love fairies again, then. 

Professor. Well— perhaps. Green isn't my 

favorite color. , t-, r • 

Elfrida. It's funny your saymg that ! I he fairy 
/ saw was green. 
Professor. Was it? 

Elfrida. And it had long horns, and its mouth 
and eyes were just like a young bird's. ( This almost 
startles the Professor out of his skin. Blinking and 
munching, he sits staring, while Elfrida continues 
to deal her devastating blozvs) And it ran round be- 
hind the tree, and when I got there, it was gone. If 
you'd been there, Grandpapa, to run round the other 

way 

Professor. Run round? 

Elfrida. And if you'd had your butterfly net— 
(This gives the Professor a fresh jerk) Why, 
we could have caught it ! 

Professor. Well, I'm not so sure—? Perhaps. 
Elfrida. But, Grandpapa, you are believing what 
I tell you, aren't you ?— I saw k— really I did ! 

Professor. I would like to believe it, my dear- 
It would make a great difference to my state of 
health. When you saw it, didn't it upset you ? 
Elfrida. No! 

Professor. It didn't frighten you? 
Elfrida, No! Why? 

Professor. Not even when you ran after it ? 
Elfrida. Why.no! Of course it ran, too. But 
it was quite nice about it. 
Professor. Was it, indeed? 
Elfrida. It made a noise at me— just like a bird 

— a nice bird. • 1 :» >. 

Professor. Did it say " Sick, sick, sick, sick .'' 



28 BIRD IN HAND. 

Elfrida. No ; it only went " Chewee ! Chewee ! " 
— just like that ! 

PKOi-ESSOR. Then I'm not mad after all! 

Elfrida. Grandpapa, what's the matter? 

Professor. My dear — you would really like to 
see that — that thing again? 

pLFRiDA. Why, yes ! 

Professor. Green, and with horns, and eyes? — 
Hear it again ? 

Elfrida. Yes. 

Professor. Run after it again ? — with a butterfly 
net? 

Elfrida. And catch it ? Oh, yes ! 

Professor. Well, my dear, there's — there's no 
accounting for tastes. But I begin to think that I'm 
not so mad as I thought 1 was. 

Elfrida. I never thought you were mad. Grand- 
papa. 

Professor. Thank you, my dear. I'm glad of 
that — Now, look here, you see that chest? This 
is the key to it — Now, will you go and open it? 
And don't be afraid of anything you find in it — 
It's all right. 

(Elfrida goes and opens fJie chest. And while she 
stands for a moment looking in, nonplussed, 
there is much more excitement in the Profes- 
sor's demeanor than in hers.) 

Elfrida. But, Grandpapa, there's nothing! Oh! 
{At this cry of discovery the strain on the Profes- 
sor's feelings grows intense. Elfrida stoops and 
picks up something) Why, it's the leaf! — The 
leaf of that tree what I sent you ! — Oh ! 

Professor. The leaf, you say ? — Bring it here. 

Elfrida. And it's all quite withered and dead ! 
{Sh.e brings it across to him, and the Professor 
looks at it with curious eyes) 

Professor. So it is, to be sure ! — Quite withered 



BIRD IN HAND. 29 

and dead. Well, there! Put it down, my dear, 
leave it alone! — And now you had better run 
away. I must get on with my work. 

Elfrida. What shall I do with it, Grandpapa ? 

Professor. Put it in the watse-paper basket, my 
dear !— That's right. Now, run away ! 

{And so the dead leaf drops to its repose on a bed of 
scrapped science shiftings. From that fairy- 
funeral Elfrida turns, dozvn-cast and sad, and 
with head bent and hands straight as though 
under some deep disgrace, goes softly out of the 
room. As the door closes behind her the 
Professor gives a look into the waste-paper 
basket, then heaves a sigh of relief, and goes 
on with his work.) 

CURTAIN. 



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